


Some Kind of Sign

by ABitNotGood (EggsyUnwin)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Maria came out for a good time and is feeling so guilty right now, Women helping Women, awkward conversations over tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggsyUnwin/pseuds/ABitNotGood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria Reynolds was scared, beautiful, and looked far too young when she knocked on Eliza Hamilton's door expecting Eliza's husband. She looked even more scared when instead of anger, Eliza offered her kindness and a place to stay.</p><p>“I insist,” Eliza lit a fresh candle off of her own and handed it to the wide eyed girl in the ruby red dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Kind of Sign

The fire was down to its last dying embers and the sole candle had dripped down to its last inch when Eliza resigned herself to retiring to their empty bed alone.

Alexander had not come home yet again. It was becoming a common occurrence. Sometime during the night he would sneak through the shadowy halls and slip under the sheets beside her. The cold chill would wake her and she would pretend it had not. Usually when this happened he would lean over and kiss her on the head, whisper goodnight, or a hollow promise that this wouldn’t happen again which she never allowed herself to believe.

Or perhaps tonight would be one of the times when he didn’t come back; when the office got to protect him for the night rather than their home, when the Treasury got his attention instead of their children and her.

The children were sleeping easy already. She had tucked them all in before resuming her vigil at the bookcase closest to the front door, idly reading by the dim light.

The book seemed to sigh with her as she closed the heavy volume on her hopes of her husband’s return.

That’s when someone knocked on the door.

The sound was too loud in the unbroken quiet and made her jump. She rushed up, steadying the candle in her hand and hastening to the door, her nightdress’ skirt brushing across the floor.

“You’re home—” she opened the door not to reveal her husband but instead a wide eyed young woman reaching up to knock again.

“My apologies,” the other woman ripped her hand back but seemed unable to take a step back. “I was under the impression—you must be Mrs Hamilton. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

And then the young woman curtsied. Her deep red dress folded down as she bent reverently, the bottom layers getting caught in the snow still lining the ground.

“You have me at a disadvantage, miss,” Eliza said. “I am Elizabeth Hamilton, and this is my house, but I am unaware of who you are?”

“I am someone who should not be here at this hour,” the woman replied coyly finally straightening.

“It is far too late to venture anywhere, I must insist that you come inside and at least get warm before journeying on. You seemed to expect someone else—perhaps you are a client of my husband’s, miss…?”

“Mrs Reynolds,” the girl’s lips curve around the words, “But please, you must call me Maria. Thank you.”

Maria Reynolds nodded politely to Eliza, dipping her head a little too low to be informal as she walked in. Eliza locked the cold outside.

“Then you must call me Eliza in turn, to keep us equal. Please mind that my children are asleep. If they were to wake I fear we may not have a quiet moment to talk.”

For the first time, Maria looked distressed. “Your children are home?”

“Yes. Pardon but you did not say—you are a client of my husband’s?”

“He is helping me with a legal issue.”

“Outside of office hours?” Eliza hadn’t meant for her voice to sound so clipped.

Maria blushed. “No. Pardon my intrusion. If your husband were home he would surely be as shocked as you are at my appearance. I should have waited till morning. I am afraid I am rather delirious. I certainly should not have come had I known yourself and the children were home. I believed you were—away.”

Maria’s voice cracked slightly on the last word and Eliza’s eyes darted to the fire’s ashy embers. Eliza fetched her shawl from the armchair and passed it to the young girl who nodded her thanks.

“I arrived home only last week. Your information was not terribly incorrect. I am afraid I do not know when my husband may be home tonight, but I must insist you do not go out in that cold again. Please stay. The guest room is almost always prepared.”

Maria tried to protest but Eliza looked at her, a little sharply, a little scrutinizingly. Maria Reynolds was scared, beautiful, and looked far too young in the room’s dim light, but Eliza couldn’t fight the unsettled feeling in her stomach.

“I insist,” Eliza lit a fresh candle off of her own and handed it to the wide eyed girl in the ruby red dress.

\- - -

Eliza had Maria called down for breakfast at the same time as her oldest children Phillip, Angelica, and Alexander.

The woman nodded demurely at the three of them and smiled tentatively at Eliza.

Maria was quiet whilst the children ate, and then departed for their respective studies and occupations. Eliza calmly sipped her tea and watched Maria stare at her cooling, untouched teacup.

“It tastes dreadful when cooled,” said Eliza.

“I am sorry, Mrs Hamilton, I do not mean to seem ungrateful.”

“We decided on Eliza, Maria.”

Maria slowly met her eyes and blinked owlishly. For the first time, Eliza wished that her instincts about Maria Reynolds were incorrect, not for her own sake, but this time for the young woman’s.

“Tell me more about your case that my husband is undertaking.”

“I am afraid I cannot, Mrs—Eliza.”

“Because it is not real.” Eliza put her tea down sharply. “There. Now that is in the open.”

“I am so sorry.”

“My dear, I hardly think you are solely to blame.”

“I must go home. I have overstayed my welcome. I—I shall not come back here. Please, my husband, if you see him please don’t speak of this. I know you are a woman of honor and I have no right to ask you to lie for me but if you could not mention that you know of this, then you would save me pain.” Maria stood and curtsied again.

Eliza stood up too, knocking her teacup causing it to wobble and skid around the saucer before settling, unbroken in the middle. It was effected but still in one piece: she had knocked it but it did not break. It was not as fragile as it seemed.

Eliza watched Maria Reynolds prepare to walk out of her life.

Eliza walked around the table, took the hand of the young girl, and said: “Stay.”

“I would not want to cause any more pain than I already have.”

“A little pain is unavoidable in this instance. But I am not as easily broken as you may think. If you wish to not further my pain then please stay. We will surely not be graced with my husband’s presence until this evening at the earliest.”

“What can I do for you?”

“You can talk.”

Maria sat back down, folding her skirt around her. She was wearing the same dress as yesterday. Little Angelica had complimented the color this morning. Maria had thanked her sincerely and carefully stroked the silk skirt.

Eliza wondered if it was the only dress she owned, or at least it was her best dress. Eliza wondered if Maria had met her husband in that dress. If he had taken it off her. Eliza didn’t sit down but stayed, stood over Maria.

“How did you first come to meet my husband?”

“I came to him for help, Mrs Hamilton.”

This time, Eliza didn’t correct her about the name. “Help with what, may I inquire?”

“My husband is—not a kind man like yours is. I have a daughter. I was running out of options to keep her safe.”

“You came for a divorce?”

Maria paused then awkwardly admitted, “I came for money.”

“Surely a divorce has more longevity?”

“Forgive me, but money can also have longevity. Your husband is proof of that.”

Eliza felt a rush of fear. Maria’s eyes widened and she quickly added: “I mean to say, my husband discovered—orchestrated—the—meetings. Your husband pays mine.”

Eliza took a step back and grabbed the table as she lowered herself back into her chair.

“Orchestrated? Does Alexander know? If anyone were to find out—”

“I think Mr Hamilton was most worried about you finding out,” said Maria.

“If someone finds out about money changing hands then there are more important factors to consider than my emotions.”

“Maybe there shouldn’t be.”

“If you wanted to protect my emotions, Mrs Reynolds, then you should have thought of that earlier.”

Maria gasped and Eliza let out a long breath.

“Excuse me. There are not social norms to follow in such an occasion as this, but all the same, that was rude.”

“No, you are entitled to—”

“Let’s not talk. You say you need a divorce? That can be arranged.”

“I do not think it best that I engage your husband to my case,” Maria murmured.

Eliza looked pityingly at the desperate girl. “Then it is fortunate that there is more than one lawyer in our new America.”

Maria Reynolds left the Hamilton residence with Aaron Burr’s address on a slip of paper.

As soon as she had left, Eliza started planning what she now had to do. Her hands were shaking as she closed the door and she wondered if this was the shock finally setting in or if this was the sadness she had been expecting. There had been no time for either when the girl was here so perhaps they would come now.

Her children were in the other room, playing without a care, so she allowed herself to smile and breathe. Slowly, she sat down at her desk in the window and pulled out her correspondence set. Her old letters were tied and kept neatly next to her and her eyes drifted over Alexander’s frantic, tight, erratic handwriting. For a second, she imagined smashing the inkwell over them, watching how the black consumed the spaces between words and hid all of Alexander’s promises and claims.

Perhaps the worst part she noted—as her hands stopped shaking—was how little she was shocked. All this time, denying Angelica’s claims that Alexander would do whatever he needed to survive, ignoring the gossip of women in town, old army stories… Perhaps she had started to believe them and simply not yet noticed.

Maybe this was what it felt like to suddenly see after being blind.

Eliza Hamilton wrote a letter to her sister, a letter to her father, and a letter to Aaron Burr. She sent them off with the morning post and then calmly retired to the parlor to help her oldest son practice piano.

If they could perfect Phillip's scales before lunch then there may be time for a French lesson before her husband eventually came home.

**Author's Note:**

> Eliza has the patience I never will. But also, Maria needs help and I wanted Eliza to offer her that.
> 
> Don't believe what the word count tells you, there are 1776 words here. Because I'm that that easily amused. Don't judge me?


End file.
